


Vindicator

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Episode Related: The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg, M/M, Other: See Story Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon's thoughts as he watches Jim receive Blair's PhD.<br/>This story is a sequel to Vindication, Vindicator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vindicator

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler's for TS by BS. 

## Vindicator

by Elizabeth Clarke

Death Story - although the death of a major character is in the past, and after a long, happy life. 

Many apologies to those who were mislead by my previous posts. "Vindication" was intended to be a stand-alone story. I wasn't at all certain that Blair was dead. I just knew he was "gone" as in "not with Jim". By "Vindicated" I knew he was either dead or incapacitated in some way. Yeah. Major denial. . However, e-mails forced me to evaluate where the story was headed, and I had to give in. I'm sorry for any pain this may have caused to readers. You have my apologies. Many thanks to those who e-mailed me with encouragement and ideas on working with Simple Text. I think it worked. 

* * *

I never thought I would see this day. How did we make it this far? 

We. I suppose it _is_ we. We fill this row. We're all here, except the youngest, and he's the reason for our presence. 

Joel. Actually frail now, and in a wheel chair for this occasion. That fierce look of satisfaction isn't frail by any means. 

Rafe. Age suits him. On second thought, everything suits him. Especially _that_ expression. 

Henry. A little more weight. A lot less hair. A lot more solemn. 

Megan. Now there's a predator. Thirty-five years and I don't think she's forgiven anyone for their part in this. 

We. The inner circle. Those who knew the truth. The "V" squad. I don't mean "vice" either. I mean "vindicators". That's how I would describe us. Vindictive. Thirty-five years we've felt this and had no way to let it go. Today we take back our own. 

A sacrifice is a sacrifice only if it is willing and complete. 

It doesn't have to be accepted, only honored. 

We may have thought, at first, that we had accepted his sacrifice for Jim. We may have thought we had given him back a future. It wasn't long before we knew better, but he tied our hands. If he had ever railed against the situation, become bitter or sour - would we have felt this way? Or would we have let it go? We'll never know. Instead we had to watch every slight given him. Listen to every innuendo spoken about him - and let it go. It was painful, and pain without an outlet can become rage. 

Music. Marchers. There's Amy. I wonder where Jim is? Oh, right. He's marching behind the honorary degree recipients. 

Ah, there's Stephanie and David. Hard to believe Stephanie is actually Stephen's girl, she's so much like Jim. Who would have thought Steven would leave an estranged widow? Much less a daughter? Who cares? In every way that matters she's been Jim and Blair's child since she was ten. She's looking well. Must be awfully proud of her daughter. Amy may not have a drop of Blair's blood, but she certainly has his intelligence and love of learning. 

Blood. Doesn't always make a family. We were his family. Still are. 

Naomi couldn't come. Wouldn't come. Yeah, it's a long trip, and she's certainly not young anymore, but Joel has a harder time getting around than she does. I would have thought she'd be here if only for Amy; she's always loved her, but no, she couldn't. Called the presentation a "travesty of Blair's decision". It "took away from his free choice". Personally, I think guilt keeps her away. He refused to blame her for part in the whole thing, so she can't get rid of her guilt. 

College of Anthropology. Richmond, Rinden, ...There! Amy Ellison Santiago. 20 years old and you've got your Bachelor's degree. Your Grandpa Blair would be proud. Hell, girl, your whole family is proud! Mom, Dad, Grandpa Jim. Us. Me. 

Yeah, me. I'm proud of you, girl. I wish I could have been proud of your Grandpa Blair. I just never got the chance, not for this kind of thing. 

Master's degrees are finished. Not so many doctorates to confer. Almost there. 

I've been carrying around my own rage on his behalf. How could I think a badge would replace everything he'd lost? And I don't mean the money or the book deal. 

I wonder, sometimes, if we ever really know him before the thesis thing came down on him? If we had, if we had accepted all of him, would he have come to us \- come to me? Let me help? Up 'till then we always knew he had another life. We just never acknowledged it's full significance to him. 

I guess it doesn't matter if we didn't know him then. We certainly knew him later, though it always seemed a piece was missing, as though he had been somehow diminished. It only fed our fire. 

Special Degree Presentation. This is it. Where's Jim? 

Jim. I thought we'd lose him when we lost Blair. Face it. We're all at an age where any one of us could go and it wouldn't be a surprise. I guess you had too much to live for buddy. Too much to set straight. How long will we be able to keep you now, when you have someone waiting for you? 

There he is. 

You're standing there, Jim, accepting his degree, and I still can't watch you without expecting to see him beside you. Over the years he stopped following you so much, or maybe you stopped leading. Got so he stood beside you. You still stand as if he's there beside you. 

Still the soldier, aren't you? Straight and tall. I'll bet embassy guards aren't any straighter. 

I wish you could have forced the dean and chancellor to be there on the platform. Make them listen to the vindication of Blair's thesis. The dedication of a Chair of Sentinel Studies. The announcement of the Blair Sandburg Memorial Prize for Anthropology. Can't remember their names. Doesn't matter. Somewhere along the line I'm sure they reaped what they sowed, but damn, wouldn't I have liked to lock that dean in a room alone with Megan. "You have embarrassed...." 

There. 

We're on our feet, every last one of us. Even Joel. Stephanie and David. Amy. 

Who's that? 

Naomi! She did come! 

Blair Jacob Sandburg. PhD. 

You done good, kid. Rest in peace. 

We finally can. 

* * *

End Vindicator. 


End file.
